Super Mario is Awesome
by cherry chip cake
Summary: Puck convinces Rachel to spend the afternoon playing Super Mario World.


After Puck's third theatre experience, which consisted mainly of him alternating between wanting to kill himself from boredom and attempting to make the moves on Rachel (only to always get swatted away with a hiss to "Pay attention!"), he complains that they always do what _she_ wants.

To which she retorts, fine, they'll do what he wants for their next date.

But not _that_.

Or football. A delicate songstress of petite stature like herself could never handle such strenuous activity! This also struck out dirt biking, and paintball, and pretty much every other cool thing in the world.

Except one.

◦ • ◦

Kicking aside his gleaming X-Box, Puck rummages in his closet and triumphantly pulls out a gray plastic console, caked with dust and what appears to be a twenty year old peanut butter stain.

Rachel's entire face crumples in disgust as she helplessly gestures to the nice, new consoles strewn about his bedroom floor. "Can we play one of those games instead?"

"Absolutely not." He takes out a cartidge larger than a CD case and blows the dust out of the opening. It _has_ to be older than he is. The label is scratched beyond recognition. "If you're going to play Super Mario for the first time, you have to do it right." He slams the cartridge into the game with much grandeur, and turns it on.

Nothing happens.

"It always does this," Puck assures her, turning the game off and blowing on the cartidge again.

"It is a very old game, Noah," Rachel says gently, hoping this will dissuade him. It doesn't work, and Super Mario World finally creaks into action after his third try.

Puck practically has to force the grimy old controller into her hands. "Okay, there's the first level, now just give it a shot." Mario falls off the screen to his death nearly instantaneously.

"Oh!" Rachel's brow furrows. "A turtle killed me."

"Uh, yeah. You walked right into it."

"I thought Mario would just punch it...?"

Puck gives her a scathing look, as if she just said the most ridiculous thing in the world. Rachel finds it highly unnecessary. "Mario doesn't punch anything, he jumps on them."

"That's silly. I feel like it would be more practical to punch the turtles. Why is he wearing boxing gloves then?"

"Those aren't-" He cuts off suddenly. _Be cool. She can't help it if she's video game retarded._ "Just try again," he suggests wearily. "With jumping."

She does much better this time around. She even manages to kill a couple of the turtles in between all her yammering ("What exactly is my motivation supposed to be?" "Didn't you read? He's saving the princess." "But what do the turtles have to do with that? They didn't take the princess." "Jesus, Berry, they're in the way, so just kill them." "Barbaric, much?"), but soon enough, she gets hit by a shell. "Well, that's just unfair."

"You'll get it next time." He doesn't say it with much conviction, but he's just glad she's still trying and hasn't thrown the controller across the room yet.

The next time, Rachel manages to almost beat the level, and glows with pride. "This isn't so hard. But I have to question the morals this game is trying to convey, Noah. Mario eats mushrooms to get stronger? What are they trying to tell us?"

He snorts. "Who even knows?"

When she actually does beat the first level, she hops up and cheers, like a girlier version of how he acted when the Saints won the Super Bowl, and throws her arms around him like she'd just beaten the game. "This is surprisingly rewarding, Noah." She grins at him. "Okay, what next?"

She _aces_ level two, even though it's one with a lot of jumping, and Puck is way more enthusiastic about this than he probably should be. He spends level three watching over her shoulder with his arms around her, partaking in what can only be referred to as _cuddling_. She almost calls him out on it. I mean, Super Mario World making someone affectionate? It is awfully ridiculous. But Rachel knows boys can be very sensitive, and doesn't want to ruin it, so she keeps her amusement to herself. Besides, it's not as if she doesn't get handsy every time she hears Adam Pascal sing (or, for that matter, when Puck himself breaks into one of his awe-inspiring solos). She suspects this is sort of the same thing.

Level four doesn't go nearly so well because it's one of the lava castle stages, but she's fine with that because there are other ways to keep entertained. "So, when did you first start playing this game?" She snuggles up against him, breathing in that boy smell he has. She isn't really sure if it's nice or gross. For one thing, he wears way too much Axe.

"Damn, I don't even remember." He stretches his neck, since they've been sitting entwined for a while now. "I was super young though, and the game was still really old." His lip quirks into a nostalgic smile. "My dad had left it at my mom's house after they divorced, so I found it in a closet one summer and just started playing it."

Rachel brightened. "Your dad was a Mario fan?"

"I don't know. Maybe."

By the time she _finally_ beats Iggy Koopa, Puck had gotten up and came back with a bag of pork rinds, which he presents to her like it's an awesome and not at all horrible snack. "Ew. Noah, even if I wasn't a vegan that would be disgusting." She narrowed her eyes at him suspiciously. "We're Jewish, anyway!"

He shrugged. "Pork rinds don't count."

Rachel gave him an incredulous look. "Really? And how's that?"

"It's just pig _skin_, it's not like it's really pig meat..." He trailed off at her horrified expression.

By the time she'd beaten the next level, he'd come back with a nice, Rachel-friendly snack of grapes and celery, as suggested by his annoying kid sister who'd hovered around the entire time he was in the kitchen, drilling him about Rachel. Puck himself settled on Cheetos, having been sufficiently guilted out of the pork rinds - awesome Jewishness could be both a gift and a curse, apparently. The neighbor's dog seemed to enjoy them though.

Rachel gave up somewhere around the next level. It was late, and honestly she was getting a little sick of the whole thing. However, she had found that, surprisingly enough, she'd enjoyed herself. "I figured out the problem our dates had," she said, beaming.

"Uh... What?" _That they were really gay?_

"They didn't give us a chance to talk. Healthy interaction is very important for a couple."

"Oh. Does that mean no more Sound of Music?"

"Of course not!" She tried not to let his disappointed expression get her down. "I just mean that, maybe instead of the theatre we could... Maybe watch it at home on DVD together." It seemed far less romantic to her, but she vowed that once she'd fully converted him to the magical world of Sondheim she could fully introduce him to musicals the way they were meant to be seen.

At least now, she could rattle off musical theatre facts as they watched. It was always so hard keeping her mouth shut before.

"And you can pick every other date," she added, almost as an afterthought.

"Alright." He stretched, feeling a little sore after sitting so long. "So... Want to make out?"

She did. As usual.


End file.
